WELCOME! I’m glad you came!
Instead of being birthed in a normal manner, I was extruded like a twenty-inch long Twizzler, thus producing the world’s skinniest kid.
During the 1950s, skinnies over the age of five were presumed to be brats before proven guilty. And the fact that actions speak louder than words didn’t help my defense.
Like most toddlers, I started out all cute and sweet. Then nature took over nurture, and I quickly developed into a scrawny, yet pungent brew of O’Henry’s Red Chief, Snow White’s Dopey, and Adam and Eve’s serpent. Due to this melting pot of attributes, my adventures did not always end on a high note.
I’m recounting various adventures, begining at the beginning and continuing through my flat-as-a-pancake teens. In all probability, my stories aren’t in perfect chronological order. And it’s entirely possible some participants might be scrambled.
As an added bonus, you’ll be offered unsolicited advice and Buddha-like observations.
I hope my adventures entertain you and stir up many of your own memories.
– Mary Barbara
1950 Memories of Suburban Adventures 